


Red Herring

by Rougescribe (rougescribe)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-08-29 20:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougescribe/pseuds/Rougescribe
Summary: Heartfilia Associates is a business built upon the backs of many and held up by the most taciturn of business men. Or so many would say, but beneath the surface is a history far darker than even its current CEO wishes to admit: and trying to escape may lead to the death of the one person he holds dearest of all: his daughter. (Chapters not officially updating until 2019!)





	1. A Beginning In Parts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Fairy Tail story that is still in production and not ready to be released with chapters yet. Chapters will be started sometime in 2019.
> 
> For now, please enjoy!

As a child, his biggest frustration was being unable to hurt people. Agitated, angry, upset: the emotion he felt didn’t matter. Any attempt to strike back, to release energy, show distaste or make someone feel as hurt as he did, ended in the weakest of strikes. As if time would slow down in the process of swinging his arm out. What would start as quick, high pressure. Would end in a tap. Light. Quick.

Painless.

He wasn’t old enough to know that a violent reaction was wrong. That hurting others to avenge your own hurt was not the correct path. All he understood was the blank stare of his assailant before their lips would curve upward, a mocking smirk at this failed attempt. Harmful words would follow. Spew forth like a broken spigot. Spattering into his fragile, young ego.

Weak. Pathetic.  _‘Was that supposed to hurt or tickle?’_  Frustrated tears would fill his eyes. The harmful words would continue like tiny knives.

Why? Why couldn’t he hit back? What slowed his hand? What kept him from full force? As he aged, the barrier between his fist and contact slowly deteriorated. The fraction of time that would slow his hand disappeared. The cracking of jaws became a sound he was used to. A scream of pain, a cold glare at the one who threw their barbed words against his heart. He finally succeeded.

But it made him feel worse. Each broken jaw. Each cry of pain. Each busted knuckle. Adrenaline rushed through him, satisfaction flooded every limb for an eternity of seconds. But when alone, staring at bruised hands, sickness replaced it. Too little too late. He now understood why he held back as a child. Why his subconscious never let his hand connect. He was strong. He was human.  _So were they._

They were both human. And no matter the pain- he never wanted to truly hurt anyone. Not then.

Not now.

Staring hollowly through bespectacled eyes, the man who used to be a boy felt the weight of his entire life pressing against his back from an old, leather seat.  Dark green hues fell upon the room, looking but not seeing and the tic-toc of a grandfather clock rang in his ears like the loudest of bells. Time passed in an eternity- slow, dreadful- and his thoughts danced in circles, never truly seeing the room around him.

His hands, once bruised, now covered in scars, old calluses and secret gashes, clenched tightly in the leather of his chair and a deep sigh escaped him.

It was a sigh that spoke of many things: pain, loss, defeat and of a brittle hope that had finally snapped.  Once a boy tempered through harsh words and brutal work- now just a man with broken pieces of a dying faith.

Here sat a man who had  **failed.**

Once upon a time there was a boy and a girl. Neither knew the others name or face, but they shared a common secret. The illusion of choice.

“Make sure to NOT say a thing to your case worker unless it’s to tell them what such great parents we are: understand?” A boy and his brother, dressed in the nicest of clothes they had ever had, nodded- eyes wide with a strange combination of uncertainty and challenge. Both their bodies were sore- from play fighting they were told to explain. They really did like to wrestle a bit too much at times.

The two women the world believed to be their ‘mothers’ smiled, revealing all teeth in a manner that did not reach their eyes while they straightened out their jackets. “Yes, perfect. You’re sons of the S _yndicate_ now, you have to look like it.”

Though the eldest nodded, he had to grasp the hand of his smaller brother to make him follow. This seemed to satisfy the women before them as they turned to lead them through the doors to a salvation they could never seek.

Their new home was fine. They would tell their Social Worker. Their life was never better, they would lie through their teeth.  The man with kind, concerned eyes while holding a clipboard would be none the wiser about the gun residue on either of their fingers.

_You can tell them the truth. - but would anyone really believe you?_

While she, dressed in the pinkest of white lace and pink silk- would be sat at a table with her Mother and Father, smiling happily as the warmest meal was set before her. Today she had been told her Grades were the highest of her class. An honor for such a prestigious school and for their family.  The girl didn’t fully understand the words, but she could sense the pride in her father’s smile. And that was enough.

“You definitely have the right mindset!” He spoke, excitedly while holding the hand of her mother, who looked paler than usual that day. “My little girl will know the business inside and out before she’s old enough to marry at this rate. Absolutely perfect!”

“Dear- don’t forget she needs time to be a child, as well-” The conversation moved to slight mutters and the girl, feeling as happy as can be, didn’t catch the rest of it. Instead, she ate cut pieces of moist steak and kicked her legs happily under the table.  

Father was proud of her. What more could she want?  

“Just imagine her later, the vision of poise and knowledge, on the arm of my successor, running our firm and keeping our holdings secure. It’s perfect- wouldn’t you say so, my darling child?” Something in the way his voice change made her stop eating, eyes sliding to stare at the man who was her father.

His lips were curved. He was happy right?

“Of course!” She replied.

Though she never truly realized what she had agreed to.

_You think you’ll be anything more than just the treasure on another man’s arm?_

Two separate lives. Two separate stories. The convergence of failure is a thread that sews them both upon a fabric of life, weaving and binding from one frayed end to the next. While she heard the cracking of a riding crop during riding lessons, he heard the shots of a rifle echoing from his brother’s hands.

When she was introduced to her first ‘play date’ - he was introduced to his first burning building.  Their lives, locked in a building story they could not escape or truly understand until one decision caused their tiny worlds to shatter into a larger universe beyond. - but what lay out further than their eyes could see?

A sad, empty man- **whose scarred fists remembered everything.**


	2. Sea of Cardboard Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note before reading: This is a story that takes place in an Alternate History where a lot of Things from the Flapper Era is pretty present, but you can make your own judgments on the time it takes place for yourself. That being said, Natsu’s personality IS going to be different than what you might expect, as I am experimenting with the personalities of Edolas Natsu, Earthland Natsu and my Version of END, mixed together in one person.

_ ‘Something,  _ **_especially a clue_ ** _ , that is or is intended to be misleading or distracting.’ _

                                                             -   
  


There were times when it felt as if the ashes and scars would never fade off his weathered hands.  When copious amounts of scrubbing could never rid him of the true history that marred his mind and heart. Eyes blinking, slow and hazy from sleep- he would see the redness of blood, the black of old charcoal and soot- a follow up blink and reality would remain. 

Calloused fingers: clean, but hard.  His body would ache from the hard floor groaning as he slowly raised himself to greet the day. There were no birds outside his window, no laughter, no sound of cars or daily life. 

Just a faint buzzing, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that reality was temporary. Where he once was, a dream that carried so many memories, was where he belonged. Preparing for the morning, face shaved and clean- dark eyes would stare into the mirror of his small bathroom, stinging as green was placed within them and glasses placed on the bridge of his nose. 

_ You’re running away from the past…   _

His body stretched while he slid his arms through a steam-pressed shirt- muscles bunch and tense together, too tight, before releasing and he sighs. Would he ever feel relaxed? Freshened up, dressed and coupled with a tired, worn face that would slowly melt to a soft, timid smile as he walked out the door.

_ How far will you run, until footsteps circle back and it overtake you? _   
  


**Red Herring** ****  
**Chapter 1:** **  
** **A Sea of Cardboard Faces**

 

“You’re here early.”

The statement was a blunt fact, cutting through the air and making the listener aware of the others presence. Erza Scarlet had been staring at her own reflection against the glass of her martini before she tilted her gaze to meet her company. The smoke from pipe tobacco left a thick haze over the room and her eyes squinted, perturbed. “Should I have been late, sir?”

She knew the answer as well as the other- her contracted employer, Jude Heartfilia, was a man who accepted punctuality, first and foremost. Ever the one for business. The sight of his own lit cigar protruding from the bristle of his mustache made Erza’s brows furrow, but she gave no comment. Despite the atmosphere of one of his many drinking parties- the piano tones dancing through the air, the light chatter and laughter of men and women around the room, the CEO almost looked distracted.  

Taking in a deep breath, smoke filtered out between puffs of nicotine. “Don’t be an idiot, Miss Scarlet. I didn’t hire your company for back talk.”

“Of course not.” Spoken through her teeth, she swiped red hair to the side while squaring her shoulders. Men like this didn’t see a business woman when they looked at her. Hardening her stance was necessary to get her point across. “You hired us for results and I’m here to collect. I wouldn’t dare assume you would forget?” 

A business transaction set during a party. Far less questionable than checks flying through the mail, harder to track. Erza had been in the business for far too long to leave openings. Jude’s shoulders stiffened and the man released another puff of smoke, deftly placing his hands on the table, full of drinks untouched, and tapped the envelope he had placed there. Subtlety. It was a requirement.  A nod of her head was her acknowledgment, but she did not reach for it. 

Not yet. Patience was key. “So, Mr. Heartfilia,” She stalled- calling up banter in case others were watching. Which they were. Eyes always fell upon the man who owned half the city. His company empire ruled the town, even above the Mayor. The death of his late wife only made Jude a stronger magnet for attention, “What exactly is the point of this party? Pleasure and business?”

Her own goal was to fit within the crowd. Hair tied up in a messy bun, accented by purple feathers on a small hairpin and curves covered in a matching, purple dress that swished with her ever moment. Stockings covered her legs, leaving nothing to the imagination towards the muscles that worked beneath the skin of her calves. A strong woman, but one who had every right to be at a high-class function. 

Certainly not the type to holster a gun under her skirt.

“It’s for my daughter,” Jude’s response was quick and the tilt of his gaze even quicker. Eyes moved across the smoggy hall, chandeliers gleaming in the haze, before landing upon the subject. A slender, blonde woman with a body perfectly endowed for the red dress that covered her. Erza nodded, well aware of the Hearfilia Heir: just as everyone else was.

“Ah, yes,  Lucy, was it?”  Her words came out low, offhanded and searching for the point. There had been no announcements for a Birthday, so what was the point? To spoil her? No, certainly not- “Is this your attempts to gain insurance?”

A quirk of his beard was her answer, eyes gleaming with his calculated stare. “I can’t leave any loose ends. Just as  _ you  _ can’t, Miss Scarlet.”  She didn’t miss the taunt in his words, gaze sliding back to him with a shifted brow. “You’re assisting me under contract, as you know. I won’t settle for paltry work. _ From you or your associates _ .”

Erza knew who he was referring to. A Woman fronting for a company was questionable enough, but the men in her employ? “They’ve been more than adequate, haven’t they?” She challenged, casually propping her hand on the table to watch him through hooded, narrow eyes. “Or are you unsatisfied?”

“Not yet.” The stress on the word wasn’t lost on her. “Pray it stays that way.”   
  
“For you?” Erza asked, voice turned to steel as she faced him. “Our men are more than qualified, but failure means a lost contract for us. We can live with that.”  She swiftly gulped the remains of her drink before clanging the empty glass on the table. “You, however,  **wouldn’t** .”

She chose that moment to end their meeting, body slipping through the crowd of dancers as fluidly as water. Jude stood behind, gaze hard and unreading before he, too, tucked back a drink- grimacing at the sweet taste of champagne. The envelope was gone.

He pretended not to notice. 

The heir to Heartfilia Associates was livid. That is what Michelle Lobster gathered while watching the blonde turn down a dance from yet another, hopeful man. It had only been a courtesy that the Lobster family had even been invited to such an event. Cousin’s through her Mother’s side, but Michelle didn’t mind it. The gathering was posh, elegant, everything her family often wished they had, but didn’t.

She was working towards it. Hopeful to marry up while at one of these many parties. (Though, for now, she was more than willing to wait and learn.) Today, however, no man so much as looked at her. An outsider may think it was good enough cause for Michelle to feel angry, even jealous, but no, that wasn’t the case.  Watching her cousin, Lucy- only filled the almond haired girl with pity. 

Michelle was well dressed in a light pink party dress that cut off at her knees. Lucy, was dressed in a wine red cocktail gown that accentuated every curve, revealing the skin of her legs with every step and the ample presence of her breast. She was, for all intents and purposes, the dessert course of the evening. They both knew it.  Lucy hated it. Finally ridding herself of the man who hoped to twirl her out to the dance floor, she returned to Michelle’s side, jaw tight as she stiffly sat beside the other. 

“So strange how I wish I could get the attention you get, while you want nothing to do with it.” Michelle said, a gentle smile forming as she reached to pat the top of Lucy’s hand. “- and you really couldn’t say no to this party?”

Lucy looked weary, as if she’d spent the entire week awake, pushing herself forward and ignoring the need for sleep. It would not have been surprising if it were true, but she still managed to sit with a poise that came from years of training. Posture straight, golden hair pulled up into a graceful bun that allowed curled tresses to dance along the sides of her face. A small hair clip draped over her face in a red veil, but her looks hardly fit the actions. 

“Just ten minutes to read the room-” She mumbled, hardly recognizing Michelle’s commentary, “It’s all I ask, but I can’t even sit longer than five minutes before some man working for my Father thinks he has to offer himself up to me. Do I LOOK like I’m interested?”

Michelle bit her lip, unable to break the news to her cousin lightly, “Have… have you seen how you’re dressed?

“Of course I have, you think he’d let me come down here in a pantsuit?!” 

The mere imagery forced a giggle to escape Michelle’s throat, “Oh goodness, why didn’t you? I bet that would have raised the most HILARIOUS scandal.” Lucy’s indelicate snort that followed only pulled her into a deeper fit of laughter, covering her mouth as she examined the room. Many of the guests were members of Jude’s corporation- and a few stood off at a distance, whispering to themselves. 

Not a second went by that eyes, gossip and assumptions were being made over Lucy Heartfilia, yet not a single one of them realized she was currently griping about the very party they all attended. How had one perfected looking so at ease in one place when they desired the exact opposite? Michelle had to give Lucy credit for the act. She wasn’t altogether sure she could pull it off herself. 

“I bet if a man asked for your hand to dance while dressed like that, you may just have to say yes.” She replied with a humorous trill. “Since he’s obviously ignoring the fact you’re coming off as an independent shrew.”

“Is that how you think that would come across?” Lucy asked, brow twitching as she sighed, her shoulders dropped for a mere second before resuming proper posture. “I hate everything can be cut so simply. It’s just tiring being seen like the final slice of pie that everyone wants a bite out of.”

The words left Michelle’s mouth before she could think them through, “Yes, but you ARE supposed to be looking for a candidate to marry.  Wouldn’t you have an easier time accepting it if you didn’t grumble every moment others were out of ear shot?”

It was as if she’d been told to drink poison the way her expression darkened.  Michelle felt a sudden sense of guilt boil into the pit of her stomach, biting her lip in a silent apology. The atmosphere, surrounded by soft piano tunes seemed to darken from the tension that permeated from Lucy before the woman sighed, expelling whatever emotion that had filled her in those passing seconds. 

“I almost wish I never made that agreement with Father.” She mumbled, gaze drifting down to her lip where silk gloved fingers twitched, folding within each other and squeezing tightly together. “If I hadn’t though, he’d already have me announcing an engagement to one of the member’s of his Committee. An old fellow with missing teeth and greased up hair who’d keep me hidden off in a kitchen somewhere with an ironing board.”

Michelle didn’t altogether agree with Lucy’s interpretation. Not ALL marriages were like that, after all. Especially for a woman like Lucy.  _ ‘I think you’d have maid’s to do that, actually-’ _ but she bit back the statement. Her cousin wouldn’t find such a response all that helpful and she knew it. 

“I don’t think most people put ironing boards in Kitchens, Lucy-” She opined instead.

“Ugh, You know what I meant.” Lucy chimed back, cheeks flushed. 

The turn of conversation became more lighthearted then, with Michelle giggling at Lucy’s obvious innocence towards the lives and chores of normal people. She tried to understand, she truly did, but there was only so much a girl raised in high society would know about. They lived in different worlds. Michelle knew this, and while it was confusing for herself (A woman who lived on the cusp of both sides) - she found Lucy’s blunders endearing. 

It was a distraction from the Blonde’s earlier ire. She finally gained the break she wanted from men constantly asking her to join them and while they both had to hold up a facade of gentle women, it gave them both an outlet.  The cousin’s had known each other for years, growing up together and often being tutored at the same time. It was no surprise, that though completely not understand Lucy’s distaste towards her position in life, Michelle was fully aware of her current state of mind. 

To find someone to use. ‘It’s like this-’ She had told her just a week ago.  _ ‘Father wants me to get married to a man that he and I both can agree will run the company once he retires. He’s giving me ONE year to find someone that suits me rather than choosing for me. Just a year! - which is …’ _ She had sighed, frustrated, clearly angered, _ ‘Well- ridiculous. I’ve been TRAINED for this my ENTIRE LIFE. I could run his business with my eyes closed, but he won’t even consider it because I don’t have a-’ _

The choice of words she had given that day made Michelle’s face light up a brilliant shade even now, but Lucy hadn’t given her time to recover from the colored terms. _ ‘So, I thought- what if I did find a man? - but he was someone I could.. You know- … only pretend to be the head of the Company while I run everything?’ _

_ ‘Could you even FIND someone like that?’ _ Michelle had wondered, but Lucy didn’t have a clear answer. 

_ ‘I don’t know, but it’s my best bet…’  _ She had said- back to the present and Michelle wondered if Lucy still had hope of finding such a man.  Her attention was caught between the constant wave of guests introducing themselves and offering her to meet their ‘sons’ or ‘join them for a chat,’ Michelle didn’t think Lucy had the TIME to find what she was looking for. 

Nor did she think it truly would help her predicament. All the same, it was Lucy’s choice to make, and while Michelle felt the uncertainty of it all within her bones, she nodded her head and did her best to support. The knowledge that men would pay more attention to ‘her’ once Lucy was off the market was not lost to her. 

Perhaps it motivated her to help, though she tried not to think too deeply into it.  

Their conversation drew to a sudden conclusion when a part in the crowd caused Lucy’s body to stiffen, eyes alerted to something in the distance causing her voice to trail off, distracted. Michelle knew that look and recognized the gleam in the blondes eyes. Curious, she tilted her own head to gauge what had garnered the heir’s interest.

“What-?  Did Prince Charming walk in or - “ Her own voice trailed off, caused by the incredulity that crossed her face. “Uhm, Lucy- what’s so interesting about Mr. Dragion?”

The newest, personal assistant to Jude Heartfilia: Natsu Dragion. He was a man no one had ever heard of until three months ago when he’d been quickly introduced by Jude to his entire board of directors. Appearing in and out of the Heartfilia mansion, the man was one of the oddest additions to the entire job. He dressed the part of a businessman. Steam-pressed shirt, tailored pants and polished shoes, but his tie was always crooked, his shoulders never straight enough- always slightly hunched. Even from a distance, Michelle could see his shirt was slowly becoming untucked- messily done.  (In fact, even his hair looked unkempt and messy, as if he’d just rolled out of bed.)

He wasn’t used to dressing up, it was painfully clear, but the most obvious of all his aberrations was his hair, a light shade of pink- almost matching the very tone of Michelle’s dress. Pink matched with green eyes that were often hidden behind the glasses he wore. 

Hair dye wasn’t often used on men, let alone those working an intricate business such as Heartfilia Associates. Michelle knew this, as did Lucy, but the blonde was watching him as a Hawk often watches a mouse. That’s when it clicked. 

“You can’t possibly be wanting to see if HE could work, are you?!” She hissed, Lucy barely acknowledged her, watching as the man greeted a few guests with a nod of his head, shifting himself further and further out of the mass of people as he slipped off to a more secluded part of the hall. 

“I can’t be sure unless I talk to him.” She answered, slowly pushing off from her chair, Michelle resisted the urge to grab her arm.

“Oh, Lucy, there’s no way- he’s too new for Jude to-”

“New and yet somehow already close enough to be his assistant, you mean.” The blonde corrected, lips slowly turning into a satisfied grin. “- and I’ve seen him talk. He follows more than leads and he doesn’t look half bad either.”

“I suppose, but he-” She tried to put her finger on it, “Doesn’t he seem OFF to you?”

This gave the heir a moment to pause, considering the question, lips pursing together before she nodded. “Yes. Yes he does, now that you mention it.” Lucy answered with a hum, tucking strands of hair behind her ear before straightening out her dress. “Which is why he just might be perfect. I’m going to assess him.”

It sounded almost like a business approach, the way Lucy worded it, but Michelle didn’t have time to try and put words to her feelings. Her cousin had already begun a soft strut through the hall, smiling demurely and slipping through the crowd like a well-trained princess. Michelle was left alone with her thoughts, quickly standing herself to search for the nearest table for drinks. If she was going to be left alone, she may as well not be a wallflower about it.

Lucy was now on a mission. She had only greeted Mr. Dragion a few times as they passed each other in the halls. He always felt… timid, almost. Voice stuttering lowly as he hurried off. At times, she wondered if he merely wanted to be as far away from her as possible, but waved the assumptions off. He didn’t know her, what reasons could he have to AVOID her?

A party seemed the best of places to truly try and get to know him. If he was how she assumed, then he probably WOULD fit the exact criteria she wanted to win this game between her and Jude.  - but there was only one way to truly find out. Passing through the crowd was easy. Stopping only to return greetings to a few guests, Lucy expertly excused herself each time and feigned needing a ‘break’ when a few more offered for her to dance. 

Strange how she hadn’t danced a single time through the night, but could still make a few random strangers believe she’d been moving non-stop. A simple change in tone and her voice could lilt an exhausted whine that sent them immediately to ushering her off to a chair. A slow, methodical dance to the other end of the room. 

Natsu, was clearly unsure if he was seeing properly when she made her presence known, taking a seat beside him at the small table he had run off to. Off into a corner, almost blocked by a few, draping curtains. “You know,” She stated, voice amused, “It’s considered rude not to greet the person a party is being held for.”

As if she truly felt it mattered. Not really. She appreciated the fact he hadn’t immediately rushed off to greet her and lick her heels like so many others. The man in question, however, choked on his drink when she spoke, eyes widening behind his lopsided spectacles, head whirling to stare at her. Some liquid champagne dribbled down his chin, something Lucy took note of immediately as he swiftly moved to wipe it with his tie. 

Lucy had to force her smile to stay in place. Did he not know how… improper that was?

“S-sorry, I was just… That is- uhm-” Fumbling for words, the assistant cleared his throat, placing his glass back onto the table in such a rush that it almost toppled over. “Ah-! No, not-.... there!” Saving the drink from an inevitable tryst with gravity, he coughed into his hands. “I didn’t think you’d need me to. You’ve been.. Uh… surrounded by jer- suitors all night.”

She didn’t miss the slip of his tongue, almost laughing. So he thought those men were jerks, did he? Honestly, she couldn’t have worded it better. He definitely fit the shy male she had pegged him for- if a little clumsy. A few tick marks in her mind towards the very thing she was looking for, but that didn’t mean he was truly a good head for the company, did it? If he was too shy….  Lucy hoped this wouldn’t be a dead end as soon as she had started to explore it. 

“Suitors who are jerks.” She amended, winking when the man gaped at her. Turn on the charm, that was the plan. “So, tell me, are they jerks for smothering me or for taking up all my time?”

Natsu didn’t have an answer for her, gaze staring in shocked confusion before he blurted, “Should you really be over here? Look, I’m only here cause I’m getting paid to- I mean, because it would look bad if I wasn't. You don’t HAVE to hide yourself away with me.”

It was obvious that he’d been hiding himself, but to hear it out right stated, among other things, finally pulled Lucy’s humor out, snorting out a laugh before covering it with her hand: stifling to a much softer giggle. Most men who came to this party were only in it for the company, that wasn’t a surprise to her. The fact he even admitted to being paid to do it barely ruffled her feathers. As an assistant, he was probably still working. “What a waste, working when everyone’s relaxing!” 

He wasn’t responding to her obvious posture, leaning against the table to accentuate the swell of her breasts. Nor did he seem to blush at her laugh or the blunt winks she was giving him. Didn’t he realize when a woman was trying to flirt with him? She would have to shift tactics. Boldly reaching for his drink, Lucy pulled it to her lips, breathing in the aroma of Champagne before delicately licking the rim. She had to force back a grimace. 

It seemed to gain the attention she was searching for as Dragion’s pupils dilated and he sputtered, almost slipping from his seat in an attempt to pull his glass back. Freezing in mid-action, he pulled himself back and cleared his throat again, casting his gaze off to the floor as his lips thinned out into a straight line. The Hearfilia Heir wasn’t sure if she could translate that to agitation or his attempt to control himself. Either way, her plan was working. 

However, being able to affect him did not fully answer for his eligibility towards looking the part for a Company CEO, she realized. His actions within those few minutes were not running in his favor. Perhaps Michelle had been right and her plan was doomed for failure all along? Lucy held back a long-suffering sigh while her brain worked in over time to figure out a way to solve this dilemma. 

“Look,” His voice interrupted her thoughts, brown eyes blinking in confusion as she realized her mind had lost track of reality for a few seconds. Too deep in thought, but he didn’t seem perturbed by it (or to even notice it.)  His gaze finally shifted back towards hers, uncertainty gleaming within the green of his eyes. Almost too green, she noted, but hardly had the time to look further- “Miss Heartfilia, you really shouldn’t be here-”

“Lucy.” She interjected and his words stopped with an open-mouthed stare, confused. “Just call me Lucy. Miss - or Mrs.- Heartfilia was my Mother, and I’m not her.”

The mention of the woman who had once tucked her into bed at night pulled forth a dull ache in her chest, but Lucy ignored it, keeping her stare firm on the assistant. A nervous swipe of his tongue dashed out and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Lucy, then- I suppose. Anyway, the point is you should get back to your-”

“So that means I can call you Natsu.” He stopped speaking again, brows furrowed in sudden agitation. Lucy’s grin widened. Seeing a different emotion on his face asides from confusion and uncertainty felt as if she’d scored points. The look dropped as fast as it had come, however as he began to loosen the knot of his tie, fidgeting. 

“S-sure, why not.” He conceded. “It’s not like I really care what ya’ call me anyway so- .. wait, no, I’m TRYING to say something here!”

Oh this was getting fun! She hadn’t felt this amused in days, biting back another loud laugh. How was he pulling out those? She couldn’t be guffawing like a fog horn at a party like this! Clearing her own throat, she stood from her chair, intending to ask him to dance and further this play of hers, but the next interruption to follow did not come from either of them. 

“Ah! There you are! Miss Heartfilia, I’ve been looking for you.”  A familiar voice of one of that many suitors of the night made Lucy’s body stiffen, smile plastering back onto her face as if it were painted on. Giving an apologetic nod to Natsu, she turned to greet the man she had turned down for three other dances and did her best not to so much as knit her brows together.

“Oh, hello again, -” She paused for a moment, was his name Zack? Markham? Another second passed and it struck her, “Anthony I thought I’d take a small break from the crowd and regain my bearings. What can I do for you?”

“Please, just call me Tony.”  She made a mental note to NEVER do so, but smiled all the same. The man was recently promoted to upper management, clearly hoping to get his grips into further promotions among the company. Lucy knew all too well his interest in her was merely a means to an end. His smile, just as fake and plastered as her own, crossed his face while he barely glanced towards the Assistant who still sat behind them. “I understand a Lady like yourself, breaks are necessary. We can’t have you becoming overwhelmed, can we?”

The urge to punch him sifted through Lucy’s mind at a lightning rate, right hand clenching within the confines of her tight glove. “- No, no, can’t have that. Again, did you need something?” _ Get to the point!  _

Either he ignored the signs from her tightened fist, or couldn’t read them, Anthony, in his suit that was two sizes too large, bent forward to grasp her fingers, lips touching over the fabric as he tried to match his gaze with her own. A customary action for a gentleman, but Lucy still considered trashing the article of cloth later. “You stated you were still too busy greeting other guests to dance earlier, I merely wanted to give out another invitation.”

A fourth one? Goodness, he didn’t take a hint very well, did he? “I appreciate the offer, but this song currently isn’t to my liking for a dance.” Soft piano music meant proximity between their bodies would be slim. She couldn’t have that. Pulling to withdraw her hand from his grasp, she blinked, lips pursing together when she felt his fingers tighten around her own, almost painfully so. 

“Anthony? If you would, I’d like to have my hand back.” She questioned, but the grip only tightened, forcing a small gasp. “Ah- wait just a -”

“Miss Heartfilia.” His tone of voice sounded chilling, close to ice while his grin grew ever larger. “Surely you’re not denying me a fourth time, are you? Whatever would your Father think?”

‘To hell what he would think, release my hand before I smack your over bleached teeth out!’ She wanted to shout, but creating a scene was unbecoming. No, she’d have to find some other way to- a sudden gasp of pain erupted from Anthony’s lips as he recoiled, releasing his grip and stumbling back.  

That other way was currently standing next to them, having left his chair and table during his time witnessing the conversation. His own hand, digits calloused- Lucy noticed, gripped into Anthony’s shoulder with such tightness, she could see the fabric of his jacket indenting by inches. Another wince and Anthony let out a pained cry- eyes swerving to stare in the face of Natsu Dragion. 

The stuttering had cased, no longer did his gaze shift to the floor, instead it was hard, frozen as heat and acid oozed from his words.  He gave no notice to her suitors pain, ignored the way he bit through his teeth and hissed. 

“She said she wasn’t interested in dancing, can’t ya’ hear?” Dragion growled, body rumbling as he spoke. It brought a strange, surprised shiver up Lucy’s spine as her own eyes widened at the scene.  What had happened to the shy man she had spoken with only minutes ago? She saw no sign of him in the face of the man who stood before her now. 

“- M- Mr. Dragion- I.. I had no idea she had been speaking with Mr. Heartfilia’s assistant, I- “ Another gasp as Natsu’s grip tightened pulling forth a wince even from Lucy. She could only imagine the bruises Anthony would sport the next day. “I- I’m sorry!”

“Oh, are ya’ now?” The tone deepend another octave as he hissed, pushing the man back to move between them, broad shoulders shielding her. “Perhaps you should go and think about how yer supposed to respect when a Lady says no before I mention to Jude how you just treated his daughter, eh? Run along now before  **_I give you a reason to run_ ** .”

Something in the way he spoke pulled Lucy back, stunned expression watching as Anthony nodded, darting back off into the crowd to nurse his aching shoulder. Natsu’s voice hadn’t sounded so uncertain then- rather, it grew absolutely deadly. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought he’d just threatened to kill the man.  Seconds ticked by before he turned to face her, brows still narrowed, glinting behind the lenses of his glasses. 

Lucy found she suddenly couldn’t breathe, feeling suffocated in a way she couldn’t even describe. Reaching for her hand, he smoothed the creases of her glove, stretched her fingers out one by one, before releasing her. 

“Ya’ know, your Dad HIRED some pretty damn good Body Guards, maybe next time ya’ should signal them to come over and deal with crap like this.” His head motioned for some of Jude’s newer hires, standing off by the exits- a tall man of shocking blonde hair accompanied by a man of shorter stature, his own gaze no-less intimidating. “It’s what they’re PAID for.”

“I, wait- hold on, I- “ Words stuck to her throat, tongue tying and twisting as she struggled to catch up with the events as they unfolded. Natsu gave her no time to react, no moment to process. Grabbing his drink, his shoulders slumped as he left her. Dodging guests in the crowd with apologetic murmurs. 

The shy, uncertain man was back- and he was escaping. 

“What- what just happened?!” Lucy stammered.  Mind reeling. 


End file.
